


Goalposts

by anonymous_moose



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Competition, F/M, Family, Gen, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-13 19:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12991323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anonymous_moose/pseuds/anonymous_moose
Summary: Time heals, and reveals, so many things.Magnus argues. Lup never surrenders. Barry shares a drink. Lucretia relaxes for once.





	Goalposts

It was late one evening, the last day of Candlenights. The fire was roaring in the fireplace, the shrub in the corner still covered in shiny tinsel. Merle was upstairs, packing his things. Kravitz and Taako were cuddling in the breakfast nook at the other end of the house. Davenport had already retired for the evening, still recuperating from the excessive amount of toffee and chocolate liquor he'd ingested the night prior. Angus was outside, walking the dogs.

Barry and Lup were on one of Magnus' couches, reading a book together -- a gift Barry had gotten from Angus, something historical based on the title. Lup was tucked up against Barry, his arm around her while she pointed out certain lines, mumbling things that made him laugh.

Lucretia was sitting with Magnus on the couch across from them, her sketchbook in her hand. Currently, she was working on an environment study of Magnus' living room; the tacky decorations he'd hung from the rafters had charmed her immensely. Magnus was reading a book himself -- a Caleb Cleveland mystery novel, as it happened. He kept making faces as he read, brows rising and falling skeptically. Lucretia got the impression he wasn't seeing the appeal.

Suddenly, Magnus lifted his head. "Holy shit."

Barry and Lup looked up from their book curiously.

"I just realized," he said. "We broke your record."

"What?" Lup asked. "What record?"

"Hundred and three years before we figured us out." Magnus glanced at Lucretia with a sheepish grin. "It's been about that long, right?"

"That we've known each other?" Lucretia tapped her pen, looking to the ceiling. "Yes," she said slowly, "roughly a hundred and three, thereabouts."

"Makes us the saddest romantics in the room," Magnus said smugly, propping his feet up on the coffee table. "By a lot, actually."

Lup pouted, brow furrowed. "Now, hold on," she said, lowering her feet to the floor and leaning forward. "You only _knew_ you were into each other for like, what? A year? Less? Barold was into me from the first decade, and I was into him from--" Lup paused, eyes briefly darting back to Barry before flapping her hand dismissively. "--whatever, that doesn't matter. Fact is, we took like, fifty years to get our shit together and hook up. That makes us the saddest."

Magnus shook his head. "Now, see, that's you moving the goalposts. That's--"

"It is not!" Lup said, insulted.

"It is so," Magnus continued, crossing his arms, "and even if it wasn't, the fact that we didn't even recognize our feelings for so long still puts us over the edge."

"Oh, now who's moving the goalposts!"

"You are!"

"Now listen here, Burnsides--"

Lucretia closed her sketchbook and tucked the pen into the little band on the spine. As the argument continued, ("Look, I know math is hard for you, Magnus, so get me a pen--" "Excuse me? I'm a carpenter!" "Oh, what- _ever_ , just get me a pen and paper!") she looked across at Barry. He tilted his head towards Lup and shook his head. Lucretia nodded, then indicated her and Barry before pantomiming a drink. Barry considered it, then nodded.

They stood and walked towards the kitchen together as Magnus and Lup leaned over the coffee table and began drawing out timelines.

* * *

 

"Sorry if I'm still a bit distant," Barry said, staring at the cup of brandy cradled in his hands. "I know it's been a few years, and... well. I don't know."

They stood by the big picture window, looking out at Magnus' front yard. Barry was leaning back against the dining table, and Lucretia was doing the same a couple seats down, keeping a comfortable distance. Behind them, the debate between Magnus and Lup continued. ("Wait, you're counting the years when it was one-sided? That's not fair." "What? Pining totally counts! That's what this is all about!" "You're moving the goalposts again!")

"It's alright," Lucretia said knowingly. "I understand."

"It's only..." Barry laughed under his breath. "I was afraid of you for so long. You know that?"

She glanced at him, a bit stricken, but Barry didn't seem upset.

"I didn't mean for you to be."

"Yeah, I know. But it was a trip and a half, for me. Bein' afraid of you." He looked at her and, shockingly, grinned. "Little Lucy, the wallflower. Always writing in her journals."

Lucretia blinked at him and smiled reflexively. "I think I grew out of that nickname."

Barry nodded, looking out the window. "You did. But I couldn't help it. That was just... how I thought of you."

Lucretia followed his gaze. Angus was still outside, running back and forth in the snow with two of the dogs -- Roxie and Mal, it looked like. One of them leapt into his arms and tackled him into the snow. Reflected in the glass, she saw Lup burst into laughter, clutching at her stomach while Magnus crossed his arms sullenly.

"It all worked out, didn't it," Barry said. "In the end."

Lucretia sipped at her brandy and sighed. "I think so."

After a moment, Barry pushed away from the table.

"Ah, hell," he grumbled as he sidled past a chair and settled next to her. "Who has the time for grudges, anyway?"

Lucretia stared at him and said nothing. She looked out the window. Angus was trying to wrangle the dogs together to come back inside. In the glass, Magnus was resting his cheek on his hand as Lup reclined back on the couch. He caught her eye in the glass and smiled lazily. Lucretia smiled back.

Barry reached over and gently patted her on the shoulder, and she exhaled sharply. "Barry, I--"

"Don't," he said gently, lowering his hand.

For once, she didn't. A comfortable, companionable quiet settled between them.

"Sounds like they're done," Barry said.

Lucretia nodded. "It does."

"More brandy sound good?"

"Extremely."

"Alrighty."

Barry led the way back to the kitchen. He poured Lucretia's glass for her, and they went back to sit by the fire.

They never bothered asking who won the argument.


End file.
